Grimm Tidings
by Shadenight123
Summary: A very tiny variation in creating teams heralds a tiny change in events. Then again, that is what Ozpin gets for throwing students into the woods and then hoping they will somehow magically form the most fitting teams with one another. No Pairings.
1. Prologue

**Chapter One**

It bubbled. The stench of the Grimm's flesh, burst asunder, smelled like the carcass of a rotting horse covered in flies and larvae, festering into the wounds. Jaune didn't really want to be there. He wasn't doing this for himself, or he would have already left. He was doing this for his father, and his mother, and his grandparents. If it had been for himself, he wouldn't have taken a single step on the path that led to a hastily stolen pass, a forgery, and then brought him all the way to Beacon's academy for the Elite Hunters. He was a fraud -a good, convincing fraud perhaps, but still a fraud.

He'd never get used to the stench of dead Grimm. Their entire being was made of wrongness, of darkness, of some form of primal, bubbling hatred that seemed to ripple across their corpses and their flesh, and didn't stop even in their death.

Jaune didn't dare sheathe Crocea Mors, because that would mean folding his shield. The forest was judging him, or so was his thought. He hoped he had proven his worth; the dead Grimm a precious offering that would not hopefully be refused. It wasn't as if Jaune thought the forest was alive, of course. He was just praying inwardly for no more Beowolf to appear.

His plead was not heard by the higher entity that governed fate, chance and happy endings. He knew that Beowolf traveled in packs. He had just hoped this particular guy had been a loner. Unfortunately, the twitching of branches and the loud sniffing from the Grimms' snouts told Jaune a different story. Still, Jaune tried to smile.

It was something taught to every little child by every parent and grandparent to have ever existed. The Grimm could sniff you out from a mile away if you were sad, or angry, or felt any kind of negative emotion at all. His grandfather always told him 'Jaune, it is always better to prevent than to cure, so keep smiling and being happy, and the Grimm won't be coming for you'.

He had gone to bed that night trying to plaster a smile on his face, and had woken up with his face hurting all over. The memory made him smile, and as he shook his head and chuckled it away, he tightened the hold on his sword and squared his face. He was Jaune Arc, in his hand was Crocea Mors, the weapon passed down to him by his grandfather, the Yellow Death. He wasn't afraid of a Beowolf.

Now, a pack of twelve Beowolf was another thing entirely, but maybe they'd take turns trying to bite his neck off?

They jumped right in, lunging with their claws extended and saliva dribbling from their mouths filled with sharp teeth. Jaune gasped as he lifted his shield and slammed it against the snout of the closest Beowolf, slamming his blade down to the hilt into the creature's neck as he spun to the side of the creature, slicing away at the hand of another incoming creature. The third however tackled him in the midriff, sending him to sprawl on the ground, the Beowolf atop him and slamming down with its claws on his chest. The shield hastily blunted the attack, as Jaune yelped. The other Beowolf piled on the first one, scratching and biting where they could at Jaune's exposed body.

"He is disappointing, sister," a female voice replied, before the pack of Beowolf exploded above Jaune, a white heeled foot having kicked them away. Red clawed and green eyed Miltiades Malachite did not reply, simply standing with her guard up as the forest teemed with the life of a hundred crimson eyes.

"Thanks!" Jaune said, gasping for air as he tried to smile, quickly scampering back to his feet. "I thought I was done for!"

"Weakling," Melanie scoffed, shrugging before clicking her heels on the ground. "Come on, Hei doesn't like waiting."

"Did I do well?" Jaune asked, sword raised and tip moving to where the loudest growls came from.

"Good enough," Melanie replied. Miltiades was the quiet one of the duo of twins, but she didn't as much as flinch when a Beowolf shot out first from the crowd hiding between the trees, probably to test their strengths. The Grimm ended up nicely carved in half from a barrage of slashes from the red-dressed girl's claws, before Melanie kicked the beast back in the woods with an airborne spin.

Jaune swallowed as more than a few Beowolf began to emerge, slowly walking forward and emerging one after the other. "This is a big pack," Jaune said half-heartedly.

"That's why you're here," Melanie pointed out. "Help clean the area or you won't get paid."

"I know, I know!" Jaune said hurriedly.

"Wounded," Miltiades said. "They smell your weakness," she added, giving a glance at Jaune's right arm, where the cloth had been cut by a vicious looking claw, and small driblets of blood were drenching the black cloth in-between his armor.

"He wouldn't be good bait if he weren't," Melanie grumbled as half a dozen of Grimm took that as the cue to jump into the fray, utterly uncaring of how many of their brethren would fall before reaching their delicious meal. Jaune had other thoughts rather than becoming a 'delicious meal' for the Grimm, and so he ground his teeth and attacked the Grimm coming closer to him.

He was going to enter Beacon, and make his parents proud. In order to do so, he needed papers. He needed good papers, well-forged. And he could always consider this an impromptu training regime for when he finally entered the academy. Better to have some training on the field than none, right?

As powerful jaws snapped an inch away from his face, held back by his shield to the Grimm's throat, he yelped and yet kept his eyes open, striking and plummeting his sword in the Grimm's chest, stabbing at the creature until it fell with a startled growl. His shield bashed and shattered the upcoming snout of another Beowolf, even as his sword hastily parried a claw, which gripped and bled upon the blade.

Clutching Crocea Mors' blade, he pulled and sliced the Beowolf's fingers off, before pushing the blade back up in a forward thrust, straight through the mandible and shattering the white-bone skull.

A red and black claw passed an inch away from his hair as he ducked hastily, a Grimm that had been seconds away from carving his head off with a claw suddenly being clawed in return.

"T-Thanks!" Jaune exclaimed through chattering teeth, even as Miltiades said nothing, simply resuming her fighting.

"Don't sweat it," Miltiades replied, swiftly rending through a trio of Beowolf, pushing her lithe frame through the chests of each of them, emerging from their backs as she spun and gutted her opposition at the same time.

Jaune balked at the sight. 'It's always the quiet ones' seemed to be appropriate for the show, but he held the words on his tongue back as he had more pressing matters. Namely, another bunch of Beowolf.

The Grimms' corpses now made the ground difficult to navigate, forcing Jaune to resort to standing on the back of the fallen foes if he hoped to get a good enough foothold to resist the upcoming attacks from the seemingly never-ending horde.

He was wondering what could possibly bring all of these Grimms in the place, but it was a question for a time where he wasn't risking a gutting by sharp claws or a snapping of limbs and neck by feral jaws.

It felt like ages, but in truth couldn't have been more than half an hour, until finally the last Beowolf yielded, falling on the ground dead. Jaune would have soon followed from tiredness -his movements had become sluggish halfway through from fatigue, and he was sure he wouldn't be feeling a single muscle on his body come the next day.

"Still alive?" Melanie asked in surprise, "Beginners' luck is a thing then," she added.

"Ah, ah, ah," Jaune chuckled nervously, gasping for air in-between. As he squeezed his knees with his hands, sweat falling down his brow, his heart drummed in his chest. When he stood up once more, his right arm stung where the drenched cloth touched his wound.

"You should get that cleaned," Melanie said, before flipping open a cellphone and making a call for a pick-up.

Jaune sighed, and began to pat his clothes for a handkerchief. He finally found one -never go outside without a handkerchief was one of the few mottos his sisters had made him learn. 'If you break a woman's heart the least you can do is give her something to wipe her tears away' was something that still made him stutter and blush at the thought. His sisters were the most horrible of teases.

A few minutes later, the roar of an engine reached Jaune's ears, before a jeep came into view through the forest's only beaten path -and their rendezvous point. Two of Hei's henchmen were on it, one on the driving seat and the other next to him. Jaune squirmed in between the two men as the jeep could hold three person in the front and three behind, while the two girls took the back and stretched comfortably.

"Here kid," Henchmen number two said, passing a package filled with papers -the forgery for beacon- to Jaune. "Boss' always true to his word. You did a good job."

"Ah! Th-Thanks," Jaune said, grabbing his 'future' in his hands. Literally. He needed the forged documents to enter Beacon. Without Beacon, he had no future.

"So, where do we drop you off?" Henchmen number one said, driving through the forest and back into glorious civilization, not even looking at Jaune.

"Uh...near the post office?" he had to send the documents to Beacon after all.

"Fine by me," Henchmen number one said with a lazy shrug. A few minutes of awkward silence followed, as nobody said another word -if not for Henchmen number two starting to hum, soon joined by Henchmen number one.

"Stop it," Melanie scoffed, and the duo immediately shut up.

Jaune swallowed once more as the jeep came to a halt in front of the post office, and once he was dropped off, he watched the jeep leave without any of the others even saying goodbye.

Well, this was done. It had been a one-time thing, and it was over with. He squared his shoulders and resolutely marched inside the post office covered in filth, grime and with his right arm drenched in blood.

The clerk didn't even bat an eyelid. To the unassuming clerk number seven, it was just another normal day in town.

 **Author's Notes:**

 **This will be going in interesting places. Not yet, but soon.**


	2. A Partnership Is Born

**Chapter Two**

Jaune Arc was nervous. He had been _**accepted**_ into Beacon, and now he was off. He had waved goodbye to his parents, kissed the cheek of every one of his sisters -and been embarrassed by each of them in turn- and as he had parted ways with his sword and shield strapped to his back and his uniform on, he had held high hopes he'd be able to make his parents proud from his very first step on the airship.

His stomach on the other hand refused to collaborate on such a grandiose event, and as his nose smelled the pristine and clean interiors of the airship, his body began to tremble and make him nauseous, the motion of the flying ship in the air something impossible for him to tolerate. He didn't know if the terror at his forgeries being caught played a part in it, but all things said, he was nervous enough that he barely managed to retch the contents of his stomach inside a toilet, rather than on someone's shoes -someone pretty, all things said.

As his grandfather used to tell him, and as his father had told him too, 'love was all about being confident of oneself' -although all of the females of his family rolled their eyes whenever they talked about it, but what did they know? They were girls, so of course they wouldn't know how it was for a man...and it had worked for his grandfather and his father after him, so it had to work for him too. One had to be confident to succeed in life, in love, and in the Hunter's business.

The confidence he had was enough to make him lie through his teeth and keep his smile up, even as he was the only one with forged documents of the entire academy -or maybe not. Maybe there were dozens of 'fake' like him that had helped out a criminal organization for forged documents.

"Hey," a green-haired red-eyed girl with tanned skin stopped next to a silver-grey haired boy with the same eye-color as his hair, greeting him. Jaune met her eyes for just a split second, and even as the girl grinned and waved, he stuttered and stumbled further down, disappearing into the bowels of the corridor of the airship. She was clearly showing way too much skin. And his stomach was acting up again.

He really didn't need the nickname 'Vomit-Boy' to stick. He needed a cooler first impression if he wanted to avoid suspicions about his transcripts being forged.

Sleep didn't come that night as he restlessly tried to recall every scrap of knowledge he had read from books at home, and every bit of training he had done on his own. They had all slept in the main room, and as whispers and murmurs of 'teams' started to pick up, he knew he needed to act fast, at the very least show off something at all that would-

And it didn't work.

Well, maybe that explained why his sisters always laughed at his 'confident' approaches. They could have said something. They really should have.

And then, as he stood together with everyone else on the verge of a precipice, the wind blowing and ruffling his hair as he stared at Miss Glynda and Headmaster Ozpin, he began to dread.

Did they throw off the cliff the people who failed in getting teammates?

He had expected a maze, traps, deadly Grimms, and much worse. A stroll through the forest wasn't that bad...until Headmaster Ozpin mentioned the dying. And then he also mentioned the landing. He would have asked for a clarification, but he was already flying by then, already in the air, already cursing his luck as his limbs flailed and he tried to steady his flight somehow -and failed miserably at that.

He could see it now. 'Student who entered with forged documents dies at initiation test, that's why you don't forge your way into Beacon!' on the newspapers making the headlines, with his face smiling or maybe a photo of his splattered and broken body in black and white as his family wept and journalists questioned them on how such a 'vile scoundrel' could ever possibly think to make it at Beacon and survive.

His thoughts were interrupted just as he had been imagining his funeral by a whooping scream of joy coming surprisingly closer with each passing second, and that ended with a strong -yet soft around his back- weight crushing against him in mid-air. Then, all he heard were explosions, and then more explosions, and then even more explosions until the speed began to dull down and he could finally try to move.

"Look where you're touching!" a familiar female voice yelled as he froze his limbs in the air, even as he and his not-really mysterious 'savior from death by falling' plummeted to the ground, he grabbed hold of the godsend mean down from the sky without resorting to lady Gravity.

"Gah!" Jaune exclaimed, and found himself landing on the ground with his back first, before rolling a fair bit until grinding to a halt against a nearby tree trunk. He hissed quietly from the pain of his aching body, but managed to stand back up just in time to watch the blond-haired sister of Ruby land with way more finesse than him, executing a perfect ten-out-of-ten backflip.

"Just my luck," the girl said as she dusted herself off and removed her sunglasses -when had she put them on to begin with?! "It's Vomit-Boy." Yang said with a broad grin. "But I can't keep calling you that, so what about Lady-Killer? That wouldn't work either," she shook her head and tapped her chin, eyes glancing up, lost in thought.

Jaune tried to put a word in, but Yang beat him to it. "Partner! That will work. Now, let's get going shall we?" with a bubbly and cheerful gait, Yang grabbed Jaune by the scruff of the neck and pulled him up from his half-shocked state, before starting to drag him long enough for him to finally regain control of his motor senses, and manage to stand on his own.

"We even have the same hair color, that's clearly a plus on partner compatibility," Yang kept talking. "Come on, partner! We have Grimms to hunt and little time to waste."

She then sauntered off, dropping her grip on his neck, no worry at all on her features. It was...kind of contagious. Jaune grinned back and nodded. "Sure," he said in the end, starting to jog to catch up to the girl's hasty walk. Her arms behind her head, Yang looked up at the sky humming.

"So," Jaune said, "I'm Jaune, Jaune Arc."

"Well, duh," Yang rolled her eyes. "I know that. I'm Yang, Xiao-Long Yang. You can call me Partner," she flipped her shining blond hair behind her with a grin. "Now..." the nearby bushes began to rustle, "Ruby? Is that y-"

Feral crimson eyes shone through the bushes, and Jaune halted mid-step. The thing wasn't a Beowolf. He rushed ahead, sword and shield drawn in an instant, yelling a hasty "Watch out!" as the Ursa Minor shot out from the bushes with a speed its frame shouldn't normally hold, paws outstretched and ready to claw Yang to-

Well, Yang didn't jump back, or dodge, or roll.

She grinned and punched the upcoming claw away; Jaune managed barely to pass beneath the extended arm to swing a blow at the Ursa's chest, slicing through the thick fur and fat of the beast -did Grimms even have fur and fat? They were made of darkness, weren't they?

"That's the spirit!" Yang said with a cheer, hitting her fists together as her weapon formed around them. "This is Ember Celica, my weapon. What's yours?"

"It's-" a bullet shot out from Yang's right fist, hitting an upcoming attack from a second Ursa, which Jaune hadn't seen coming for his back. More bullets struck the Ursa, giving Jaune time to recover his footing and rush back to Yang's side.

"Come on, show some spirit!" Yang cheered, rushing forward and slamming her fists into the Ursa's side, the satisfying 'crack' of its skull making her smile even more. The Ursa didn't collapse, the head shaking from the strength of the blow as the Grimm returned the attack. Jaune was there with his shield to take the counter-attack, even as it sent him to stumble backwards. Yang took his place, executing a flawless upper-cut with an explosive final, a barrage of blows ripping the Ursa in pieces that scattered all across the forest.

"Not bad, not bad at all," Yang said with a thumb-up. Behind her, Beowolfs' eyes shone as Jaune stammered out in disbelief. He clenched the handle of his sword and bit down on his right lip, before rushing forward screaming, passing right next to Yang who smiled back, turning and throwing new clips for Ember Celica in the air, reloading on the fly.

Jaune's shield slammed against the snout of a Beowolf, as the claws of the beast harmlessly struck his arms' protection, before his sword pierced the creature's soft belly, gutting it open and moving past, pushing the dead Grimm against its brethren. On her side, the concussive blasts of Yang's fists sent another Beowolf to fly, before she spun in a pirouette of fire and flames -the result of her gauntlets firing in a spin. Jaune ducked hastily, avoiding an otherwise 'friendly' fire accident.

"Hey!" Jaune exclaimed.

"Ops, sorry!" Yang replied. "Come on! Isn't this fun?!"

"Look where you're aiming at least!" Jaune yelled, hoisting his shield up and stumbling backwards. He slammed his right foot against the ground to hold himself steady, and then pushed forth.

The bloody Grimm didn't stop, even as a limb sailed off its body, soon followed by deep gouges opening up into his bulky frame. As if feeling no pain, the Grimm's ferocity spiked even further as he opened his mouth to chomp down on Jaune's unprotected head. Yang's shot rang true, turning the beast's face into a bloody pulp of messy flesh and bones, but at the same time making Jaune's head ring from the strength of the blows.

He'd end up deaf if this kept up.

As the last of the pack fell, Jaune gasped. "I like your style!" Yang said with a lopsided grin. "Broad swings are best swings, aren't they?!" she excitedly swung her fists back and forth, loosening her shoulders. "Now," she spun, "Let's go find ourselves a relic."

"M-Miss Yang!" Jaune shot out as he stumbled after her. He needed to catch his breath, but Yang seemed quite capable of going on for hours to no end. She did settle for a slower pace of walking at his exclamation, allowing him to at the very least catch most of his breath back by the time the dreadful feeling of 'being lost' finally crept in.

"Uhm..." Jaune scratched the back of his head and looked around. "Where are we going?"

"Don't know," Yang replied. "I'm following you."

"But I'm following you," Jaune said.

"No, I'm the one following you," Yang pointed out. "Don't tell me you got us lost!?" Yang exclaimed, a look of mock-shock on her face. She didn't seem bothered at all by the entire situation, as if strolling in a forest filled with dead Grimm sounded oh so normal to her. And maybe it was. Maybe this was what 'Beacon' wanted out of its students. Hunters and Huntresses who would enjoy a nice picnic in the middle of a Grimm-infested forest, leaving a trail of Grimms behind as they just went about without a care in the world.

"I didn't get us lost. I was following you!" Jaune yelled right back.

"Nope," Yang said. "I'm clearly following you-"

"You're the one standing in front of me," Jaune replied, only for Yang to take a quick step back.

"No I'm not, partner. You are."

Jaune sighed and rolled his eyes, looking up at the sky with a disbelieving-he then yelped as he felt one of Yang's hands touch his back. "M-Miss Yang?"

"You got nicked by a jagged rock back here. It's a minor scrape," Yang's voice came from behind him, which made him all the more nervous. "Nothing to worry about, just some dirt," she added shortly after. "Well, let's get going, partner. Lead the way."

Jaune closed his eyes and tried to remember. They had to go North. The sun settled to the...west, so it rose to the east, which meant North was..."This way." He took a single step where he hoped the North was, and then another.

Confidence.

He inwardly repeated the word in the back of his head as he took his unsteady steps and turned them into a firm and resolute walk.

Women liked confident men, didn't they?


	3. True Heroes Always Stand Up

**Chapter Three**

Jaune didn't scream as the Ursa Major roared, its white bone protrusions shattering trees as it rushed towards the duo. He simply ran. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him, following Yang who was running away from it too. If it had been a single Ursa Major, that wouldn't have been a problem.

It turned out there was an entire pack of them, and even Yang had opted for the tactical retreat when the number of Ursa began to rise above the one digit count. As they trampled the undergrowth of the forest beneath their feet, Jaune tried his hardest not to scream.

His grandmother always told him that one needed happy thoughts to drive off the Grimm.

He later learned it was a lie. Sure, Grimms were attracted to negative emotions, but there was no mention of 'positive ones' making them run away. Keeping positive was simply supposed to prevent more Grimm from joining the growing horde...with little to no effect.

"Why are there so many?!" Jaune yelled in the end, watching as a pack of Beowolf suddenly lunged in from the sides, one of them aiming at his throat and being slammed away by his shield, while two others received a spinning kick from Yang, freeing the path ahead without even slowing down. The fallen Beowolf stood back up in seconds, joining the Ursa on their hunt.

"The more the merrier!" Yang replied with a cheer. She turned her head to grin at Jaune, and brought her right hand forward to make a thumb-up gesture, her teeth flashing with mirth.

Jaune momentarily felt dread run across his spine and he inwardly shuddered, before widening his eyes at Yang's quick turn left, which he hastily followed. The horde of Grimm trampled through the undergrowth without care, and soon found themselves trudging on thin air as a crevice opened up right after the sudden turn in the forest, bringing them to their demise as they fell by the score, the few remaining on the border of the fall gazing down with bared teeth.

Jaune's teeth were chattering as he gazed at the long, long fall beneath them, where more than one Grimm had fallen and died, turning into thick smoke. Yang was clutching to a rock, hanging against the wall with one hand and holding Jaune armor's neckline with the other. The Grimm looked from up above at them and snarled, before a couple of Beowolf began to plunge their claws into the rocks, starting to descend slowly, head first, towards them.

As their claws cracked the rocks to further secure their grips during their descent towards their prey, Yang growled back in challenge at the incoming Grimm and then yelled, "Don't just stand there! Open fire!"

"I have nothing to fire at them!" Jaune replied bluntly, hanging in the air, held only by Yang's right hand. "Please don't drop me!"

"Oh don't worry," Yang replied with a sudden smile that did not bode well for Jaune's sixth sense, honed from countless years living with his sisters. "I'll do the opposite of dropping." She threw him up next, sending him to slam shield and sword in hand, against the first of the descending Beowolf. The Grimm lost his grip at the sudden attack, and plummeted down while Jaune screamed hoarsely, still clutching his weapons as Yang barely managed to catch him again by his right leg, even as he hung upside down now.

But he didn't let go of his weapons.

His grandfather had taught him a few simple things in his spare time. Never letting go of his weapon was one of them. 'No matter what happens, an Arc dies on his feet, weapon in hand, Jaune.' He'd chuckle, take a long intake of smoke from his pipe, and then exhale a series of concentric rings. He'd snort in the end, and a last plume of smoke, shaped like an arrow, would cross through them all.

Yang threw him again, and this time he spun, screaming as his blade made an arc that sliced through two pair of Grimm's eyes. The duo of beasts yelped, as if he had kicked a dog even though they were Beowolfs, and as the two fell down he gripped the border of the crevice and pulled up as quickly as possible.

The nearest Ursa Major roared its challenge and lifted its massive frame, paws glinting with the white from their claws. Jaune held his shield up and gritted his teeth, prepared to stand his ground even against the upcoming blow. The claw slammed with the strength of an earthquake, and Jaune's feet dug in the ground as he was pushed away, straight into the pack of Ursa Minor who did not waste time in trying to rip him to shreds.

Yang emerged from beyond the crevice with a cheerful yell, spinning in mid-air as she landed, fists first, on the back of the Ursa major leading the pack, shattering its back and crashing it down on the ground into a crater twice its size. A barrage of shots soon terminated that Grimm threat, as Yang threw new Dust bullets in the air and jumped, reloading in mid-air and then executing a spiraling attack that made more than one Beowolf yelp in pain.

Jaune spun on the spot, his shield suffering attack after attack from the Ursa Minor, who seemed more than willing to attack him at the same time, forcing him to relocate and move backwards to avoid strikes at his unguarded back. The Ursa were tougher and stronger than the Beowolf, but slower, and to Jaune it felt as if somebody was using a battering ram against his shield. His arm was sore, but held on even as the concussive force should have by then shattered his arm.

Being surrounded as he was, he couldn't counter or he'd be left wide open for an attack. He did manage -or so he hoped- to wound a few of the Grimm's paws, but since there was no blood within them, he couldn't be completely sure.

Louder sounds of bullets echoed and made Jaune's ears ring again, as the Ursa swiftly fell near him. Jaune saw a gleaming bronze and red girl in front of him when he next opened his eyes, Pyrrha Nikos, and a black-haired girl he hadn't much interacted with.

"We should not have stopped to help," the raven-haired beauty said, not 'coldly' as much as 'calmly'. "Speed in completing the exercise might be a grading point." Her weapon in the form of a katana, she sliced with ease through a couple of Ursa before transforming her weapon into a pair of pistols, opening fire on the Beowolf pack surrounding Yang, as the blond-haired girl thanked her with a wave of the hand before punching the few remaining.

"They needed our help," Pyrrha replied. "Surely that will count for any loss of time. Are you all right?" Pyrrha asked, as Jaune simply nodded in answer.

He rushed forward the next instant, grounding his teeth as he clenched his sword hard to the point of no longer feeling his knuckles beneath his armor. He needed to show he was a hero, not be saved like a damsel in distress. As his sword slashed at the closest Ursa, opening a gouge in its flank and making the Grimm fall on one side, he spun and stabbed the beast in the head, cleanly through the skull.

He didn't have much training, but he did have strength. If only he had completed his training, then he would probably have won single-handed. His grandfather couldn't teach him more than the basic exercises, and he had worked on those to the point of bleeding his palms dry. If only he hadn't been stuck on a chair, he'd have showed him a lot more.

Jaune's arm moved on its own as he placed all of his strength in the next blow, smashing the face of a lunging Beowolf into paste and throwing its body against another one. His left hand gripped strongly at the back of the neck of a third Beowolf, and as he plunged his sword through its neck, he neatly beheaded the Grimm, and dropped the already smoking corpse, who would disappear within seconds after its death.

He took a deep breath as he watched the rest of the Grimm being mopped up and destroyed, none escaping, none willing to concede any quarter, none smart enough to think about surviving a losing battle.

They simply fell.

And finally Jaune wiped away the sweat from his forehead and wheezed out in relief.

"That was the last one of them, right?" he asked.

"Something was riling them up," the 'cool-beauty' said crisply, her eyes moving from Jaune to Yang, then back to the forest. "Maybe another team."

"As if," Yang rolled her eyes, bringing both arms behind her head and cheekily grinning. "Thanks for the help though! We had it under control, but thanks anyway!"

"None of you are hurt, are you?" Pyrrha asked, looking more at Jaune than Yang, but the Arc boy simply grinned back and shook his head. He didn't feel hurt, so he probably wasn't. And he had totally shown off his heroic side in the last moment to recover from the 'Damsel In Distress' trouble. Yes, he was totally cool in the eyes of everyone else now.

"Well, we'd better get going," Yang said. "How about we go together? There's nothing saying we can't cooperate between teammates, right?"

"Of course," 'Cool-beauty' said.

"Hey there," Jaune said with a bright, 'charming' smile. "I don't know your name, beautiful-"

"Oi, Lady-Killer," Yang interrupted him while shaking her head at the same time, "I don't think your 'confidence' is going to work on her."

"I'm Blake," the raven-haired girl said with the same frost a frozen tundra wind would hold if it were in the middle of the North Pole, blowing harshly over fields of pure ice. "And I'm not interested."

Jaune hung his head and sighed. "Very well, then...Team Jaune, to the-"

"Who made you team-leader?" Blake asked, only for Pyrrha to chuckle.

"Why not?"

Yang shrugged. "Let him have his fun."

Jaune's smile was a beam of happiness as he began to march confidently forward.

It lasted approximately ten seconds. The time it took for his muscles to make themselves known to his pain receptors, and then he half-stumbled on his next step and winced with each following step. He kept his smile up, but it was no longer out of happiness. It was simply a matter of putting up a strong face and keeping the flaring pain from showing.

The Grimm seemed to have finally calmed down by the time they reached a semi-circular amphitheater in the middle of the woods, a ruined thing with pedestals holding chess pieces upon them.

There seemed to be all chess pieces, except for the black bishops.

"Ohhh, I'm taking the cute little pony," Yang said with a smile, lifting up from a pedestal one of the white pieces and showing it off. "Isn't he just the cutest?"

"Yeah, he is," Jaune said with a half-awkward smile. He had learned from infancy that whenever a woman said that something was 'cute' the correct answer was to nod and say it was, rather than roll your eyes and remark how 'cute' didn't mean 'wicked cool'. He shuddered at the memory of having to wear 'cute' clothes. "No, no, bad memories of frills and laces, go away. Go away and never come back," he whispered to himself, shaking his head and closing his eyes shut. He groaned next as the memories of the various dresses he had been forced to wear pummeled through his head, one after the other turning him different shades of red as he recalled each embarrassing situation.

Finally satisfied, his brain stopped. Jaune coughed as he thankfully realized nobody had seen him 'lose his composure of cool hero' and waited for the other duo to pick up their 'relic'.

"It's just a chess piece," Blake said dryly. She didn't move to take a 'relic', because Pyrrha had meanwhile settled for the second white horse piece.

"Now we just have to get back to the others," Yang said. "I hope Ruby is doing fine-"

"WEEEEEEEE-" the shrill, happy voice of Ruby Rose forced Jaune to lift his head up, just in time to watch in disbelief as Ruby Rose and Weiss Schnee both descended from the back of a large Nevermore, which cawed in anger at being used as a mean of transport.

Weiss dulled the fall with her weapon and an apt usage of Dust, bringing both girls down with minimum fuss.

"That was fun!" Ruby chirped out.

"That was definitely not fun," Weiss replied bluntly.

"It's coming back," Blake pointed out dryly, her eyes up in the air and her weapons drawn. "And it looks angry."

"When does a Grimm not look...grim?" Yang said, a bright smile on her face as Ember Celica snapped to life in her hands.

"Ah ah, very funny partner," Jaune said kindly, as if trying to lie about the 'pun' being fun. He had heard his funny bone break, but he didn't want to offend his 'partner'.

"Please don't give her rope. I'm her sister, I know she's not funny," Ruby said with a sad, puppy-like gaze as she hastily grabbed a white rook piece.

The Nevermore cawed one last time, circling around them up in the air, and then flapped its wings, unleashing hell. As arm's length feathers as hard as steel soared the air and dug deep in the ground up to half their length, the girls rolled, dodged, or jumped out of the way of the attack. Jaune instead lifted his shield, and was flung away again -was it the third or the fourth time by then?- and crashed against some of the pedestals holding the chess pieces -'relics'- on them.

"Jaune!" Pyrrha exclaimed.

"Partner!" Yang exclaimed.

"DEATH STALKER COMING THROUGH, CLEAR THE AREA CITIZENS!" Nora screamed loudly as she stepped into the fray with Ren hot on her heels...and behind them, a Death Stalker doing its best 'I am pissed at you all and I have a stinger. Guess where the stinger will be by tonight? Up your-'

All things said, Jaune still grabbed hold of the toppled pedestal and managed to stand back up, if with his entire body shaking from the effort.

He would become the best of Hunters, a true hero.

 _And heroes always stood back up_.


	4. The Price Of Admission

**Chapter Four**

Jaune's heart pounded in his ears as his muscles hurt, his breathing refused to come, and he felt tired beyond belief as a dribble of blood fell down across his back. He could feel it dribbling his skin, sticking to his clothes, sliding down all the way to the bottom of his shirt and beyond.

He still was standing on his feet, and even as the Death Stalker clacked its pincers and turned towards him, the blood he was spilling enticing him -because bleeding meant wounded prey, and wounded prey meant it was easier to kill than non-wounded prey- Jaune did not falter.

He didn't want to fail the test at Beacon, but the strength to stand up on his own was rapidly dwindling away.

The Nevermore cawed and pounced on the perceived weakness, and spun like a tornado in mid-air as feathers of pitch-black darkness fell like javelins against the party, even as it did its best not to hit the Death Stalker -and even when it did, the feathers bounced off harmlessly, the thick carapace of the creature shielding it from harm as its golden stinger rose in the air, and then came crashing down on the spot where Jaune had been but a second before.

"Enough slacking around, partner!" Yang said, holding Jaune in her arms as she rushed him away. "Hey, is this-is this blood?"

"Uh-uh?" Jaune slurred out.

"Talk about being hardcore. Partner, you're just a bundle full of surprises aren't you? Don't move. You hit your head pretty hard," Yang drawled out as she lifted him in a 'princess' carry. "Well! Dear beloved leader is down for the count! Anyone got any bright ideas?!"

"Uh! Uh! Let's run?!" Ruby exclaimed cheekily, having raised a hand to properly answer her older sister, even as the Nevermore and the Death Stalker lunged at Yang now, who had meanwhile moved Jaune on her back.

"You hold on tight, partner," Yang said. "The ride's about to get rocky."

Jaune tried to slur out a 'Let me down, I can fight'. What came out was more of an unintelligible groan and mutter.

"No! Don't go into the light!" Yang said hastily, jumping with a back flip to avoid the Death Stalker's pincers and its stinger, which dug in the ground a few inches away from Yang.

Yang looked at her reflection on the golden stinger, and Jaune did the same. A lone strand of golden hair fell, gingerly taking its time to reach the ground.

"Is that one of yours or is it one of mine?" Yang asked very, very calmly, even as the Death Stalker's pincer came back up for another strike.

Jaune didn't answer, feeling a sudden wave of Aura erupt from Yang's frame. It literally bathed him into it, a pure golden light that made Yang's eyes crimson as she snarled in utter rage.

"NOBODY." She roared, dropping Jaune on the ground -more aptly, 'throwing' him backwards from the strength of her Aura's full blast- "TOUCHES." She brought both gauntlets up, and gripped the Death Stalker's stinger with both hands. "MY." She held her ground against the Death Stalker's Grimm strength -even as it had seemed impossible to withstand for Jaune, she did it all the same. "HAIR!"

Yang kept holding on the stinger with one hand, and pulled back the other. Her right hand burst in explosions as a formidable rocket punch struck the Death Stalker's face, smashing into it as the Grimm's pincers trembled and shuddered all around. The stinger fell back, and Yang began to pummel with both hands the white masked face of the creature, explosions powering up her blows one after the other.

She was awash in a golden aura as her eyes burned bright and crimson with each strike that connected against the beast. She terminated her string of attacks with a twin blast from her Ember Celica, which made the Death Stalker stumble back and fall down flat on the ground. The Grimm's mask was unblemished, but the creature had felt the attack -there was no doubt by how its stinger was down, curled against its back.

Jaune's eyes drifted to the sky and the fluffy white clouds drifting by. "Fluffy..." he mumbled, a half-amused grin on his face. He could hear the sounds of battle ranging overhead, or just out of sight. His body was abruptly lifted from the ground, and he realized he was being carried the same way a bag of flour would be hung over one's shoulders.

"Pardon me, but we're in a hurry," Ren said crisply as he started to run, Nora cheerfully behind him.

If there was one feeling Jaune had bubbling in his chest, it wasn't 'Heroism' to say the least. If this level of strength was what the students at Beacon were expected to have, and if the mere 'training' had such risks for the continued well-being and the lives of the students in question...then somehow, Jaune had an inkling that even if they had discovered the forgeries on his transcripts, no one would have said anything.

He'd probably receive a failing mark and be sent home on the double. He couldn't allow it. He also couldn't move, so trying to get off and walk on his own feet was a moot point.

The blood had stopped dribbling down his back at least -and he probably had stopped bleeding all together. His fingers twitched, still holding on to his weapons with firm determination. A louder noise blared through Jaune's left ear as Nora fended off a couple of Beowolfs that had dutifully emerged from the undergrowth. This felt like an already seen scene.

As long as it didn't get any worse-

A King Taijitu took that as the cue to appear from behind the pack of Beowolfs. It slithered through the ground with blinding speed, and as the Beowolfs were holding Nora occupied, it tackled Ren from behind and sent him and Jaune to fly in different directions. Ren quickly executed a back-flip, landing back on his feet with his weapons drawn.

The sound of bullets soaring in the air drowned out the soft hisses of the King Taijitu, which brought its white head towards Jaune, while the black one tanked the blows of Ren's weapons.

Jaune felt tired. He was hurt and he hadn't even had a moment to rest. He had been flung around twice already, and he was out of his league. He had faced Beowolfs, and he was confident he'd be able to take on an Ursa. He could boast all he wanted about his skills, but they'd remain just that: empty boasts. If he wanted a passing mark in this exam, he had to show he had what it took. Even if it was something as pathetic as standing back up just to get smacked down again and again.

Jaune rolled on the ground, bringing his hands beneath his chest as he carefully pushed himself back up, even as everything in his vision seemed to dance. In the distance, he could see the Death Stalker having returned on its feet too, viciously facing off Yang and Blake, while Pyrrha, Weiss and Ruby were trying their hardest to hold the Nevermore away.

Nora was busy with the pack of Beowolfs, and Ren had his hands full with the black head of the King Taijitu.

The white head of the snake rose silently, hissing softly as it tasted the air, and then the Grimm spread its nostrils and opened its fangs. The attack came like a blur, a blur of fangs that bit down hard on Jaune's shield before starting to pull, trying to yank the shield away. Jaune screamed as he proceeded to stab the snout and the inside of the Taijitu's mouth, both upper and lower. The fangs did try to dig in the steel, scratching against the shield's sides, but it didn't yield, nor did they bend from the pressure exercised.

The Grimm's eyes were glowing beacon of crimson, narrowed through its bone-white mask as it snarled at the momentary setback. It finally seemed to decide on something, and pulled its white frame upwards, bringing Jaune high in the sky as he threw the boy straight-up, opening its jaws in an effort to eat him whole the moment he came back down.

The Nevermore cawed as it abruptly changed its trajectory, explosions rocking all around it as the dust bullets did not manage to dissuade it from its prey. The giant crow's eyes narrowed with firm determination as it extended its claws, gleaming in the sunlight, wings set back and beak open in a ferocious cawing.

Jaune's body shifted in a spin without reason, his sword coming down abruptly on the Nevermore's extended claw, slicing it off as he used the momentum to push himself beneath the creature's wing, and plunge the sword all the way to the bone of the Grimm, cutting it off too.

If he had felt his muscles move in unison with his sword, he'd have been impressed. Unfortunately, he was pretty sure his sword and shield had moved of their accord.

"So you can do something right," as the Nevermore fell, Jaune found his fall dulled by a large purple snowflake-patterned spell. Weiss Schnee huffed, gently guiding their descent down. When they landed, Jaune's entire body screamed from pain, but he pushed it off.

"All part of the plan," he said with false bravado, smiling. "See? All part of the plan."

"Getting hit to death's door to attract a King Taijitu to get thrown up in the air against the Nevermore?" Ruby asked, spinning her scythe back into 'melee' form, a puzzled expression on her face. "Do you regularly attract King Taijitu?" she asked next, out of pure curiosity.

"Let's talk about that later," Pyrrha said with a nervous smile as her weapon returned to its spear form. "We could use a plan right now to deal with the King Taijitu and the Death Stalker."

Jaune nodded, and looked at both Grimm. The giant two-headed snake was using both of its heads to its advantage, attacking Ren and Nora -who had freed herself from the Beowolf pack. The Death Stalker instead seemed to be enjoying itself -if such a thing was possible- exchanging blows with Blake and Yang, parrying with its stinger and striking with its pincers in a flurry of speed that was starting to make Jaune's eyes bleed.

"Let's deal with the King Taijitu," Jaune said. "If Ren and Nora are keeping it occupied, we can strike in-between his heads and take him down quickly."

"That's a great plan," Pyrrha said with a smile.

"I could have come up with that too," Weiss remarked.

"Weiss, can you manage to block the Death Stalker's pincer with your Dust?" Jaune asked, "If it slows down, I'm sure Blake and Yang can finish him off faster."

"I can do that," Weiss said while bristling, rushing towards the Death Stalker with her rapier in front of her, the guard swiftly spinning until a light blue color shone from the handle all the way to the tip of the blade, a ray of frost emerging from it. A large, ice-colored snowflake appeared with its center around the Death Stalker's pincer, freezing it in place for barely a second.

That second was all Blake needed to slam her sword straight through its carapace and rush across it, just as Yang punched the face of the Grimm once more, passing through its pincers and sending it backwards -effectively slicing the creature in half when its body passed through Blake's pinning blade.

The Death Stalker shrieked as it turned into dark smoke, but at the same time, Pyrrha and Ruby had already done their job with the King Taijitu, taking advantage of his twin heads busy with Nora and Ren to deliver crippling blows to the back of the Grimm, shredding it into pieces. Jaune exhaled a breath he didn't know he had been holding until that moment, his ribs rattling with it.

Well...he had a Nevermore kill to his name. That was going to be worth a lot of points on the test, wasn't it?

And he hadn't died, so that meant more points.

Seriously, he just hoped it was all worth it.

He didn't know when precisely he had blacked out. He didn't know if it had been after taking the first step, or if the others had congratulated him on his dashing plan to deal with the Grimms, or on his 'Heroic' abilities. What he did know was that when he woke up, Headmaster Ozpin was sitting quite calmly near his bed, a cup of coffee in his hand and a smile on his lips.

"This," Headmaster Ozpin said calmly, "Is why no one forges transcripts to gain admission into Beacon, Mister Arc."

If it weren't for having faced and survived a trio of very large Grimm hell-bent on killing him, Jaune would have accounted this as the most dreadful thing that had ever happened to him in his life.

The Headmaster then stood up, and began to walk out of the infirmary, a hum in his voice. "I hope you will enjoy your stay, Mister Arc. You certainly earned it by sheer determination alone."

He turned to give one last glance at Jaune, his eyes calm and his expression even tinting on the 'amused'. "Do be forewarned however. It will only get more difficult from now on, and the failure of one is the failure of all. You most certainly have little regards for your personal safety, but remember that your teammates risk their lives just as much as you do. Take the lesson to heart and become better fast or you might just be the reason I will have to send four sad letters to four sad families, rather than merely rearrange the teams in half an hour."

The Headmaster stepped out, and left Jaune alone in the infirmary, alone with his thoughts, and his pain, and his dread, and a tiny bit of happiness at not having been expelled on the double once the forgery came out.

Then the door burst open as a bright, bubbly golden hair swished to the invisible wind carrying with it a broad grin. "Hello partner! Heard you were awake! You won't believe the good news!"

Yang cheered as she delivered a thumb-up. "We are now in team JYPB, 'Juicy Puberty'."

"What?!" Jaune exclaimed, a little -no, more like a lot- of disbelief in his voice.

Yang laughed. "No, I'm kidding. Your face cracks me up. You should look at it! Wait, I can show it to you-" she proceeded to make an admittedly shocked face with her mouth agape. "What?!" she half-shrieked, mimicking his voice. "There. That was your face just now. We're actually team BAYN, 'Bane'. Doesn't that sound great?"

Jaune blinked. "Team...Bane?"

"Yep, we're gonna be the very best, like no one ever was," Yang cheerfully hummed, "We'll be the bane of all things Grimm, just you watch!"

Jaune inclined his head to the side, "Who-Who did they pick as the team leader?"

"That silent girl, Blake. She didn't want it, but the headmaster was quite adamant on it being 'for the very best' and that 'she'd grow in the role'. That said, you up and ready to go eat something partner? Because I'm starving, let me tell you that."

Jaune chuckled half-heartedly. What did he expect? That the Headmaster would pick a student who had forged his transcripts as the leader of a team?

But he was still in the academy, forged transcripts or not.

And as long as he had a chance to prove himself, he wouldn't waste it.


	5. The Rewards of Honesty

**Chapter Five**

Jaune was glad he had woken up just a few minutes before they stopped serving dinner in the mess hall, and was gladder still there wasn't much of a crowd left. The Headmaster was still sitting at the professors' table, and had been just recently served food. Yang slid down on the closest seat after taking her tray, and Jaune sat in front of her.

"So," Yang said. "You're pretty reckless."

Jaune nervously chuckled, scratching the back of his head as he kept a small smile on his face. "You think so?"

Yang nodded. "I approve, but there's one thing as being too much reckless," Yang said, nodding as slowly as she could in-between bites. "It's good to be reckless, that's how great adventures start, but don't let it be too much," Yang shook her head, "Or you'll regret it."

Jaune looked down at his food, his appetite still lost to him in the pools of nervousness and the islands of doubt that now composed his stomach. "And when do you know you're being too reckless?" he asked.

"Well, that's easy," Yang said. "It's when you're hurting someone else."

"Was I too reckless?" Jaune asked with his smile tight and his lips thin.

"Nah," Yang dismissed the thought with a wave of the hand. "Hardcore maybe -is it some form of training technique? Does it harden your skin or something to get hit like that? Didn't they ever teach you to dodge? Hiding behind a shield's good and all, but it's not going to do you any good against bigger Grimm, is it?"

"My weapon's...Crocea Mors, it's a hand-me-down from my great-grandparent," Jaune said. "It's nothing fancy, not like the newest models, but it's been built to last and-"

"Look Jaune, I get it that you're proud of your ancient heirloom, but that's not what I'm talking about. You can talk to my sister about weapons and she'll be ultra-excited and keep at it for hours to no end, but me? I'm for the practical. And right now, your style's all over the place. You want to fight sword and shield, that's cool. It's what you can do best, so of course it's cool. Just," Yang huffed, a strand of golden hair gently moved aside, "What's up with your Aura? It's there or you'd be dead right now -unless your skin is that tough- but you exhausted it so quickly it was like you didn't even have one. What's up with that?"

Jaune's eyes fell on his plate -his still untouched plate. He could hear in the back of his head his older sister's rant about 'not wasting food' and most certainly 'not to play with it'.

"It never properly came out on its own with training," Jaune said. "My grandfather said it was just a matter of training hard every day and it would come naturally -and then...well, here I am. Guess I learned to live with what I've been given."

Yang pinched the bridge of her nose. "Right. Yes, that's totally fine. The old grandpa in the woods trained you with his old as hell method. It's good, I was trained by an old grandpa in the woods too -hoping my father doesn't hear of this- and I know what you're saying. Still, it's way easier to get someone else to unlock it for you than waste years trying to get it out. It's going to come with time, fine, but I don't think you're going to have the time to leisure about it in here."

Jaune nervously chuckled, "I was thinking the same thing."

"Best bet, you should ask a professor," Yang said. "My father taught me -in case he couldn't do it for Ruby, the worrywart he was- but I kind of forgot half of it," she gingerly grinned. "Still, it's no biggie. Maybe Blake -our glorious leader of sour moods and poor disposition- has read a book on it and can do it, or maybe Pyrrha can."

She crossed her arms behind her head a moment later, taking in the sights of the ceiling. "You're not going to eat that, are you?" she asked offhandedly.

"I'm not really hungry-"

His plate was empty the next moment, as Yang simply swapped the plates and finished his dinner too. "Don't worry partner, I'll be here to pick up the slack, so you have nothing to worry about. You watch my back, and I'll watch yours, all right partner?"

Jaune smiled to that, but Ozpin's words still hung in the back of his head.

"Yeah," Jaune said, "All right."

He knocked at the Headmaster's door half an hour later, excusing himself from the team room by claiming a stomach ache.

Jaune Arc was many things. He was the son of heroes, the grandson of heroes and the great-grandson of heroes, and he wanted to be a hero. He wanted desperately, above everything else, above even his honesty and integrity, to become a hero. He wanted it so badly he had risked his life to get the transcripts for it.

He had suffered for the forgeries, he had suffered for the test, and the Headmaster had said it would have been fine if he stayed and picked up the pace. Yet, he couldn't.

He couldn't risk other people's lives for his selfishness.

Yang was right. It was one matter to be reckless, it was another to be reckless and harm another.

"Mister Arc," the Headmaster said, holding a coffee cup in his right hand. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this late night visit?"

"I'm...I'm dropping out," Jaune said. "I can't do it after all."

Ozpin raised a single eyebrow, and gestured for the seat in front of him. Jaune sat down, hands clenching his knees as he tried to keep a straight face even as the headmaster drank another quick gulp of coffee from his cup, before depositing it on the desk and raising his elbows over the wooden surface, to rest his chin in his clasped hands.

"You understand I allowed you to stay even with the transcripts forged, Mister Arc?"

"I-I know," Jaune said, his breath shaky. "But I can't. If that was the test, I don't know, professor. I thought Beacon would be tough, but not something that could actually kill. I-I want to become a hero, but I don't want to hurt others."

"Your forgery was well done, but admittedly it was one of Junior's," Ozpin said, quite calmly. "He most certainly asked you for a favor of sorts, did he not?"

"I-Well, yeah, but it was just to fight some Beowolfs, nothing-nothing else," Jaune said in a whisper.

Ozpin's office was a mixture of glass, gears ticking and a large window overlooking the academy. "You could have taken the entrance exam," Ozpin said. "Anyone can take it, Mister Arc. Previous experience in combat schools or not, why did you not choose to? Why did it have to be fake transcripts?"

"I thought-I thought you wouldn't allow me to try," Jaune said, only for Ozpin to chuckle.

"Mister Arc, of course I would not have allowed you to try," Ozpin said with a smile on his lips, "I do not wish the death of anyone, and the entrance exam is tough, I admit. It is designed that way after all, but I do not enjoy using it. It is merely a necessity. And you passed the exam on your own merits, Mister Arc. You do have the right to stay. You just need to polish yourself a bit more-"

"N-no I didn't," Jaune said firmly, fists clenched. "I wasn't the one who cut down the Nevermore. I, professor, I know it might sound strange, but the sword moved on its own and-"

The headmaster didn't reply at first. He just looked at Jaune, which made the boy all the more nervous, and so made him clamp up.

"This is honestly surprising," Ozpin said in a light whisper. His right hand drummed on the surface of his desk. "I rarely get the chance to see such a candid display of honesty, Mister Arc. Whenever I talk to a student, they always boast, overestimate their abilities, insist that they should be given a second chance after they fail, and yet you truly wish to be truthful? Yours isn't the character of someone who'd use a forgery."

"I just wanted to make my parents proud," Jaune said. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone."

"Then I'm sure you are making them proud," Ozpin said. "Mister Arc, I think that victory is found in simpler things, things that require an honest soul. I could have a hundred strong hunters in front of me, but I would always pick the earnest, honest one -even if weak- to those. Strength and skill, those can be acquired. A soul's nature, that is hard to change. It is possible, but by far harder."

Ozpin smiled, taking another sip from his cup. "For all that it matters, Mister Arc, there will not be any more life threatening missions, or events, for the following months. A good, hard-working boy could easily reach the level of his peers if he worked hard enough during such a time."

"B-But sir, it's not fair to those who didn't-"

"Forge their way into taking the test?" Ozpin inquired. "Mister Arc, you seem to have honestly missed the point. I do not keep students out of taking the test because I think they aren't worthy of attending my academy. I would open the doors to every single willing boy, girl and faunus, with or without skills if I could." His eyes turned slightly dark, "But I have made more mistakes than any man, woman or child could ever do, Mister Arc. Rest assured, I knew your transcripts were forged the moment I saw them, and it was not a mistake on my part to allow you to participate in the entrance exam."

"Then...why?" Jaune asked.

"In hindsight," Ozpin said, "I do not know myself. I just had a good feeling about you when I saw your face." He shrugged the next moment, making Jaune chuckle nervously at that. "And you did survive the entrance exam, so my instincts were right."

Ozpin stood up from the chair, and crossed his arms behind his back to gaze at the courtyard, "You are so eager to prove yourself, Mister Arc. You wish to become a hero, but you do not have a true grasp on what it means, to be a hero. Heroes...they do not enjoy their pedestals, and sometimes, the heroes of some are the villains of others..." Ozpin chuckled. "If you still wish to leave, then I will allow it, Mister Arc. Know however that right now, I do consider you fully a student of my academy, no strings attached."

"But what if I fail?" Jaune asked. "What if I fail because I'm not strong enough, or courageous enough, or good enough, and someone dies because of me?"

"Young man," Ozpin said, "I cannot answer all of your questions. It always take courage to take the first step on an unknown road, and it takes even more courage to keep going even when the road ahead is dark, the light shines oh so brightly behind us, glowing crimson eyes wait with feral snarls and watch our every move. Yet, we are huntsmen." Ozpin took a deep breath. " _For it is in facing our lacking that we achieve wisdom, through this we become a paragon of courage and heart, to rise above all. Infinite in distance and unbound by death, I release your soul, and by my shoulder, protect thee._ "

Jaune frowned, but said nothing else as he felt a weird tingle rush down his spine. "Consider this a reward for honesty, Mister Arc," the headmaster said kindly. "And now go, before your teammates begin to ponder your whereabouts."

"But I didn't say-"

"Young man," Ozpin chuckled, "I'm a _wizard_ when it comes to understanding people's desires and hearts. I already know what you want to say."

Jaune hesitated briefly, just a tiny bit, really. Then he stood up and ran out, a smile on his face. He was actually allowed to stay in Beacon, and the headmaster himself had said he had what it took to make it in his school!

He swore it then, as he rushed back to his team's room. He'd be the very best student and teammate Beacon had ever seen.

 _Which, all things considered, was probably what the headmaster wanted from him._


	6. First Lessons

**Chapter Six**

To the average guy, sharing a room with three girls his age would have either been utterly embarrassing or a dream come true. For Jaune, it actually didn't matter one bit. That seemed to sour Yang's mood, who had already been expecting quite the fair share of stumbling, stuttering and red-face...only to stare at a mostly puzzled look from Jaune, who was staring her right in the eyes rather than anywhere else.

"You shouldn't forget your pajamas. It can get pretty chilly at night with only a towel," the boy said matter-of-fact-like, before returning to the book in his hands.

Yang wouldn't have really been bothered if Jaune had taken a peek or not. Well, yes, she would have -it would have meant something to tease the boy with, but not even a single iota of reaction? Not even an inch or a tiny nudge of embarrassment?

"Partner, you made of stone or something?" Yang asked with the surprise evident on her face.

Neither Pyrrha nor Blake had said anything yet, still shocked at the utter disregard of Yang -who was with her towel- and Jaune, who instead had already been flipping the first page and moved on to the second. They stared at each other for a moment, before deciding to wait on passing divine judgment after a reply from the boy in question.

"I have seven sisters," Jaune said. "My grandparents' house was small, so we had to share a room." He kept his face covered by his book, trying his hardest not to make his voice crack. He knew all the possible avenues of 'Teasing' available to a young girl thanks to his sisters, and he was not going to suffer from it at Beacon.

True heroes were never teased.

Yang huffed, and shrugged, quickly changing in her nightwear and jumping on her bed, taking out...a very large set of hair products and beauty tricks. She smiled brightly at the curious looks from Blake and Pyrrha, while Jaune instead quietly scuttled away, trying his hardest not to look at the instruments of torture and despair that the girl was managing with utter ease.

He winced as the horrible images flashed across his head. He had played 'dress-up' more than enough times to know how to apply just about everything that Yang was using, and he had hoped to never see such things again.

"It's still early to turn in for the night," Yang said after a short while, silence having settled in the room as Blake had defaulted to reading, while Pyrrha seemed to be cleaning her weapon with some oil and clothes. "How about we play a game?"

"Today was very stressful," Blake said calmly. "We should all rest."

"I'd like that," Pyrrha said instead with a small smile, sheathing her weapon and looking at Yang, "What should we play?"

"Of course," Yang said with a wicked smile as she stood to sit on the edge of her bed, "I've got the perfect game to get to know each other!"

Jaune watched as Yang took out an empty bottle from one of her bags, and then began to make it spin with her fingers. "Truth or Dare! Come on leader, play with us!"

Blake gave one flat look at the bottle, then at her book. Her fingers gripped the sides of it, and she remained silent. There was an inner struggle going on, and apparently the side that decided to 'not' socialize seemed to win, hence she merely shook her head and resumed reading.

"Jaune..." Yang said with a pout, but Jaune was with his face back behind his book. "Even you abandon me, partner? Come on!"

"Seven sisters," Jaune said calmly once more, "I have suffered enough Truths and Dares to know them all," he added as he flipped another page. "Never again." His fingers clenched the book so hard that his knuckles whitened. "Never again," he whispered.

Pyrrha didn't have that problem, but Truth or Dare with only two people was 'not fun' believing Yang, and so in the end the blonde decided for a game of cards, to which surprisingly even Blake agreed to play. Thus, Jaune discovered that Blake had a perfect Poker Face, Yang was horrible at the game, and Pyrrha was blessed with inhuman luck. He, on the other hand, just plain sucked and if it hadn't been for Yang's horribleness, and Pyrrha's kindness in 'losing' to keep them both in the game, they'd have stopped playing after the second hand.

The next morning began at the crack of dawn, and as the professor of history -Bartholomew Oobleck- began speaking, all hope left Jaune's body. He had begun the morning with the best of possible intentions, ready to take notes and learn, but as he wrote his name, surname and date on the top side of the paper, and by the time he looked back at the professor, he was already busy talking about the events of the War, half the chalkboard filled with numbers and names of events.

To his credit, it seemed nobody else was actually taking notes -except Weiss and a Faunus girl sitting beneath Cardin and his team. Even then, this was going to prove more of a challenge than he had originally thought, but he was up for it.

Two hours and a half later, his fingers were pleading for mercy. He ground his teeth and soldiered on.

One hour later, he wanted to make the professor silent forever, but he still wrote on.

Half an hour later, and the lesson was finally over. Jaune's head fell down on his stack of notes, sweat coming rapidly out of his forehead as he gasped for air. His right hand twitched without reason, and it felt ready to ignite by itself, white fumes emerging from its twitching fingers.

He hissed in relief bleakly when he realized the morning lessons were over and it was time for lunch. He closed his notebook and sighed, standing up, only to be shoved aside as Cardin and his team passed by, "Watch where you're going, dork," Cardin said with a chuckle and a smirk, eliciting the laughter of the rest of his team.

He didn't stop to hear Jaune's 'scathing remark' -not that Jaune had one ready, but still, that was a mean thing to do.

"What's his problem?" Yang asked after nearing Jaune, delivering a glare towards Cardin's back as he left the room.

"That was rude," Pyrrha said.

"Some people are like that," Blake said coolly, "Don't let it get to you."

Jaune nodded. Cardin's words hadn't even bothered him, all things considered. "I won't," he said.

The mess hall was chaotic during lunch, as Jaune found out as he ended up following the stream of hungry students headed to the counter and then to a free spot at a table. As he sat next to Pyrrha, with Yang in front of him and Blake next to her, he grinned. "Boy, I'm famished."

"Hear, hear," Yang grinned, "Ready for the afternoon spars?"

Jaune nearly choked on his first bite, "The afternoon what?!"

"The professor explained it this morning," Blake said, "One of the first things he said. The only thing everyone heard before...he began to speak faster."

"Maybe if you're lucky you'll get to have a few 'words' in with that rude guy," Yang said.

"We are all Hunters. We should strive to get along with our future colleagues," Pyrrha pointed out, only for Yang to blink, think about it for a second, and then go 'Nah' and shrug it off.

Pyrrha sighed at the display, while Blake's expression didn't change a single iota. "Did anyone take notes at the start?" Jaune asked after a short while, his lunch halfway through.

"I wanted to," Pyrrha said, "But the professor was explaining stuff I had already done, so-" Pyrrha looked sideways, "and he was explaining very fast."

"I'll read the assigned books," Blake said dutifully.

"I'll copy," Yang cheerfully confessed.

Pyrrha looked at Jaune sympathetically, probably realizing his defeated expression, and said, "You could ask Weiss or Velvet -they were both paying attention from the get-go."

Jaune turned thoughtful, and then nodded. He'd do that. He most aptly finished his lunch while the arguments veered on who'd fight who in the training pits, and what was the best way to tackle a big opponent like an Ursa in little time without messing your hair up badly.

Jaune didn't really think he'd manage a proper victory against anyone during the first day of training -he had to be realistic. He was a fraud, and while the headmaster knew he was one and welcomed him all the same, it still didn't change the fact that he had to train hard to become the peer of his teammates. Fighting Grimms was easy. They always attacked with patterns, or otherwise did not care about defending. With Grimms, it was merely a matter of tanking the first blow and counter-attacking as hard as you could.

When his name was called to step inside the training area by professor Goodwitch, he did not hesitate. His aura popped on screen with a percentage bar, and Jaune swallowed noisily as Cardin took the opposite spot.

The boy's wicked looking mace stood calmly over his shoulder, and he smirked confidently. The black flanges of his mace united around a red dust crystal, which began to burn at the push of a button turning the large mace into a large, flaming mace of crackling fire.

"Sorry, Jauney-Boy, but I don't really want to waste my time sparring with the only guy who got wounded during the entrance exam. Don't hold it against me, but you'll be visiting the infirmary soon enough."

"Mister Winchester," the professor overlooking the arena spoke with a snap in her tone, "Kindly refrain from such words unfitting of a Hunter. You two will spar, and you will learn from it, and I will oversee it so that no foul play is involved and intervene should the situation get out of hand. You two are to avoid trying to actively kill each other, and you will stop at my command. If you do not, there will be repercussions, rest assured of it."

Professor Glynda Goodwitch blew a small whistle to signal the start of the match...and its end.

Cardin might have talked big, and he might have even been a jerk, but he also had the strength to back his pride up. When the flaming mace hit Jaune's shield, it literally exploded with enough concussive force to send Jaune flying backwards in the air, and make him crash with his back against the wall, taking his breath away.

His aura depleted near instantaneously, the match was called within mere seconds by the professor.

Jaune coughed dust out of his mouth as he tasted ash, but still managed to climb out from the hole he had been thrown into. His left arm hung limp by his side, unresponsive from the strength of the attack. His legs barely held him up, but he managed to walk his way back to his seat.

"Well, that was a poor performance on Mister Arc's part," the professor acquiesced. "Mister Winchester, refrain from doing this again. You are here to have a spar and learn. There is little to learn if you overpower your opponent within seconds."

"Then give me a stronger opponent," Cardin replied with a smirk.

"Oh, let me at him!" Yang said, trying to vault over the balcony overlooking the arena. "Let me at him and I'll teach him a thing or two! Once I shove a punch up where the sun doesn't shine-"

"Control yourself," Blake said flatly, looking at Jaune who was receiving a quick look-over from Pyrrha.

"What this fundamental first lesson should teach is that blocking an attack is not always the soundest of strategies, Mister Arc. Dodging is sometimes a viable alternative."

Jaune didn't reply, but he did understand.

"Now Mister Winchester, since you haven't even been scratched, it appears I will keep you here and call for Miss Belladonna."

Blake looked down at Cardin, and scoffed. She turned to give one glance at Jaune, and then jumped down in the arena, ignoring the stairs.

"Kick his ass for Jaune! Avenge my partner, glorious leader!" Yang yelled.

"Break a leg!" Pyrrha said, "and possibly make it his!"

Blake did not answer.

 _She merely lifted her weapon and waited for the whistle to blow._


	7. Seeking Help

**Chapter Seven**

When the whistle blew, Blake blitzed forward, before disappearing in a shadow of thick smoke which took the brunt of Cardin's strike. Left wide open from the overpowered blow, Cardin recoiled as a series of strikes managed to infringe upon his aura. He took a step to the side and brought his weapon up just in time to halt the onslaught, but Blake had already moved away, and by the time Cardin managed another attack -this time on the ground- the girl was already out of range.

She spun in mid-air, slashing at him from afar with her blade tied to a piece of cloth which departed from her arm. Cardin hissed, but swiftly gripped at the blade with his bare hands and then pulled, bringing Blake close in.

The flaming mace of Cardin passed over Blake's head, the girl lowering her head abruptly and then pouncing on the boy with her weapon turned into a pistol, opening fire at point-blank range and sending Cardin to blast backwards. The boy grunted from the effort of holding his ground, and keeping a hold on the weapon even as he lifted his other hand for another strike.

Blake moved, jumping up and slamming her feet straight against the boy's face before twirling her ribbon around his weapon's handle, and landing behind him, she pulled with enough strength to make him lose his balance, sending him to tumble on the ground without his weapon in hand.

She then pointed her pistol's barrel straight into Cardin's face, her eyes narrow. "You lose," she said.

Cardin ground his teeth, and tried to move. Tried being the key term because the moment he did, Blake opened fire. She opened fire coldly, calmly, and as if she was merely dealing with a bug. She fired once, twice, thrice, four times, five times, six times, seven times -as Cardin's aura began to deplete, he was treated as a ragdoll being pulled back by the attacks and yet blocked by Blake's ribbon spun around his arm.

"Enough," professor Goodwitch said, and as she said that, Blake stopped just after slamming her right foot straight between Cardin's legs -the last bits of protective aura leaving the boy's body, thus making it hurt.

"Ops," Blake said without a tone inflection to the professor, before recovering her weapon's ribbon and stepping away from the field, leaving Cardin to clutch down on his family jewels. "I made him a choir boy," she said. "I'm so sorry," she added with a light veneer of sarcasm.

"Of course you are, Miss Belladonna," professor Goodwitch said with a flat look back to the raven-haired girl, who simply returned to her spot on the balcony above the arena. "As Miss Belladonna showed, strength without tactics is meaningless, especially if you cannot hit your target. There are more Grimm than can be counted, and while the most common variety will come at you in a direct confrontation -making it easy to strike them- many others will not. Furthermore, a Grimm's speed is not dependent on its size. There are Goliaths whose speed far surpasses that of Hunters, even though their form is definitely bulky and heavy."

Cardin was hauled off the arena by his teammates, a few muttering dark curses up towards Blake, who simply ignored them with her flippant attitude -she even pushed her hair back, clearly showcasing how much she cared.

"Didn't you tell Jaune not to bother with him?" Pyrrha pointed out dryly.

"Yes," Blake said, "Because I would."

Pyrrha smiled, and Jaune made a nervous grin. He knew he should be thankful, and he was, but at the same time he bristled inwardly, because that wasn't how he wanted it to be. He wanted to be the hero, the one doing the saving, the protecting, the kickassing and much more. He didn't want to be the one saved, or protected.

"Thanks," Jaune said, since it seemed only polite to do so.

"I didn't do it for you," Blake replied surprisingly, her eyes glancing to where the rabbit-eared Faunus girl was across the balcony. "You'll have your chance to show Cardin what you're made of next time," she added.

Jaune blinked. That was...surprisingly uplifting, all things said. Sure, Cardin had been kicked around like a ragdoll, but it hadn't been because of Jaune. This meant he hadn't been 'avenged' or 'protected'. Great, his reputation as a hero was still safe and sound.

He utterly missed Pyrrha's amused expression and her 'I know what you did there' gaze to Blake, who simply rolled her eyes and scoffed, crossing her arms over the balcony's rail to watch the following matches.

The rest of the matches went by smoothly -well, as smoothly as a match between Hunters could end. By the time the sparring was over, training began in earnest. Since every hunter fought with their own, personalized style depending on their weapons, the only thing they all could have in common was their endurance and strength. 'Training' thus involved mostly running around the school and lifting weights.

These two were things Jaune actually excelled at. He actually was surprised when he found himself running side by side with Pyrrha on their fifteenth lap around the Beacon Academy, neither peculiarly winded.

"So," Pyrrha said, "How are you feeling?"

"Pretty well," Jaune replied with an even tone. "I could do this all day," he added.

"Oh?" Pyrrha raised an eyebrow. "That's...good?"

"Yeah," Jaune said, "Why are you sounding so unsure?"

Pyrrha hesitated. "Jaune," she said in the end. "I watched you fight, and-"

"Yoh! Don't leave me behind, partner!" Yang exclaimed, suddenly appearing from behind the two. "Aren't you lot getting bored? How about we spice things up?"

Pyrrha blinked, and then nervously smiled at Yang. "Why not," she ground out through gritted teeth.

Yang smiled back, a broad devil-may-care smile that seemed to say 'I'm afraid of no Pyrrha'. "Well, how about a competition on who's faster? We still have five laps to go. Best of us gets a free drink this weekend!"

"Sure," Pyrrha said, and then she began to run fast -way, way faster than Jaune would have thought. Yang blinked, and then ran too.

Jaune watched the two speeding bullets that were his teammates rush ahead, and he was already in the process of catching up to them, when Blake began to jog by his side.

"You need combat training," she said calmly. "Or you'll die," she added with slight hesitation. Then, she proceeded to rush ahead too.

Jaune narrowed his eyes and began to run faster too. He was confident in his stamina, in his endurance, and in his ability to run. He wasn't going to be left behind.

He actually managed to keep up to the rest of his team with his athletic capacities -surprising even himself. He still ended up last, but he finished the laps with his teammates. As he stopped to catch his breath, he wheezed in and out slightly, before realizing he wasn't even feeling particularly winded. Well, maybe he was getting stronger without even realizing it.

The next day, Cardin beat him into the wall again with a single hit. The day after that, the situation repeated itself. The third day, Jaune managed to avoid the blow, only to get an explosion straight into the chest, with the same result as the times before. By the fifth day, it felt like it had begun a normal occurrence for the Hunter training to start with Jaune being flung against a wall by Cardin, before Cardin ended up fighting -and losing- to Blake.

"What am I doing wrong?" Jaune mumbled as he kicked a pebble one restless night, walking across the Beacon academy's many fields and streets, gazing every now and then at the passing by couple of flirting students enjoying their youth -as he should be too, but thoughts of romance had left the place to the determination of becoming a hero, and he was still in high waters with that thought in particular.

"How does one become a hero?" he remarked as he stepped through an arch of stone beneath a bridge, ending up in a small, secluded spot with a fountain gurgling water from the tip of a statue's sword, a feral looking Grimm standing beneath it.

There was another statue portraying a Huntress looking up with admiration to the man on the fountain, even though she appeared to be weaponless.

Jaune looked up at the statue, and then unsheathed his sword and shield and struck that very same pose. "Ha! Run away, you foul Grimm! It is I, the Hero Jaune! Jaune the Hero. The...The Heroic Arc! The Hero the world of Remnant needs! The Grimm-Slayer, the Bright Flame Master! The-"

There was a light giggle, which made Jaune stop -more like, freeze in his tracks and rambling. He turned quickly, "Who's there?" he asked, keenly listening in to the 'gasp' that was clearly girlish in origin.

Jaune frowned; narrowing his eyes, he began to stalk around the statue. He realized suddenly, after a few turns, that the statue of the woman Huntress now had a pair of twitching bunny ears.

He looked up perplexed -how come he hadn't noticed at the start?

"Uhm...hello?" he hazarded.

"Hi," the girl said, popping her head out from behind the statue, her ears twitching lightly. "Are you practicing?"

"Uh-Ah...I," Jaune looked around half-startled. "Well, yeah. Kind of. Somewhat."

"I see," the girl said -the Faunus, a rabbit Faunus judging by the ears- before jumping down nimbly from the top of the statue and down on the ground in front of him. "Do your best." She waved him goodbye and hurried away.

"Uhm...Ah...I will!" he yelled waving a hand at the girl.

He looked down at his sword and shield, and then it really did hit him. He was truly a moron -he had the answer right in front of his eyes. If he wanted a better weapon, he'd have to earn the money to get one. If he wanted to earn money, he had to find a job, and since the academy had room and board, and lessons were every day except the week-ends, it meant he had to find a job during the week-end...

And also, he had to train more.

Yeah, that too.

Everyone did the same things he did during the lessons. It was what they did afterwards that mattered. He'd never become stronger than Cardin if he simply stuck to the curriculum -he needed to do more.

Professor Glynda Goodwitch had said she would always be available for her students' queries. She did imply her office hours, but apparently that wasn't enough for all of them. Some came during the wee hours of the night, or very early in the morning.

A couple even thought to ask her some truly embarrassing questions that they couldn't ask anyone else -young girls, not even knowing the basics of pollination and flowers and how to make honey- although she had the feeling she had misunderstood the question, but she was a prim and proper woman, so she doubted her students would ever engage in some form of scandalous behavior.

The life of the Hunter and the Huntress was a harsh one, one where the lives of other people weighed heavily on their souls. Still, love could blossom on the battlefield, on the endless and tireless battle against the Grimm, and when it bloomed it was all the more wonderful.

Unfortunately, reality had a way of taking away even the greatest of Hunters with but the flick of a wrist, the mishap of an improperly aimed arrow, the sad realization that they were surrounded, the-

There was a knock at the door, and Professor Goodwitch gingerly dropped back on her office's desk the photo frame of a group of four young, smiling youngsters who had gone through hell and back, and that had not all lived to see the start of their thirtieth year.

When she opened the door of her office, she had actually expected Velvet, or another one of the Faunus who rather preferred to come later at night than in the day -afraid maybe of some of the humans, unsure of their judging gazes.

Still, when Jaune Arc waved at her from beyond the door, with a nervous look and a tinge of fear on his face, she knew she would need a hot cup of tea before the day was over.

 _Arcs always were headaches_.


End file.
